


Hell's Antiques Are NOT Sex Toys

by Lori Lane (LoriLane)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoriLane/pseuds/Lori%20Lane
Summary: (Written with someone on LJ ten years ago named "Atimi" and they don't have an account here) This is crack. Complete and utter crack. It's also written in pure dialogue form. Ancient artifacts are abused, demons cry, Sam rides an evil Hellspawn named Bessie... CRACK.Never let the Unholy Consort get bored.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Hell's Antiques Are NOT Sex Toys

  
"Dean, where's the- Oh, shit."  
  
"Hey, Sammy."  
  
"That's not the Rylik candle. Tell me that's not the Rylik candle."  
  
"It's not the Rylik candle."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Dean!"  
  
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I think there're some minions in the second circle who didn't quite catch the fucking bellow."  
  
"What did you expect? That's an important candle, Dean. _Important._ The entire host of Bathor is waiting to cross into Kentucky and that candle is the only way of getting them there. It took hours to get enough sacred wax and carve those symbols and braid the wick- Why are you laughing?"  
  
" _Braided_ the wick? The demon king spends his time braiding wicks? You bring about the apocalypse and you're still a fucking girl."  
  
"It's part of my duties! It's not- I'm not a girl!"  
  
"Sure, princess."  
  
"At least I know my responsibilities, Dean! You think this is easy? Leading packs of demon hordes requires work and sacrifice and ritual. I don't need you taking invaluable occult objects and using them as buttplugs!"  
  
"You're right, Sammy. I'm sorry."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Wanna punish me? I found this great paddle-"  
  
"Dean! The Tablet of Minonk is not a paddle!"  
  
"Really? It looks kind of paddle shaped. It has a handle, Sammy. Paddles have handles."  
  
"That's because it's an ancient tablet inscribed with the prophesy of Minonk and it's meant to be held up to curse the non-believers."  
  
"Oh I believe. I definitely believe. Now, c'mon. Don't be a wuss. Spank me with it."  
  
"Dean!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dean, as appealing as your ass looks when you hold it up in the air like that, could you not be so promiscuous in front of my minions?"  
  
"Promiscuous?"  
  
"You are _my_ unholy consort, Dean. Not the Pit's bicycle. Everyone does not get a ride."  
  
"You calling me a slut?"  
  
"No, I-"  
  
"You are, aren't you?"  
  
"Dean, I-"  
  
"Asshole."  
  
"I didn't-"  
  
"You're so sleeping on the couch tonight, Sammy. You know, it really hurts my feelings when you talk about me in front of the minions."  
  
"They're _my_ minions!"  
  
"Whatever Sam. It's like you joined an evil Fraternity. I don't have to _pay_ for my friends. Like Frank here. Frank likes me for _me_ , not because I'm a Demon King."  
  
"Wha-? _Frank_? Are you talking about Francolitis the Terror of the Underworld? You named him FRANK? You can't just name them Dean, they aren't puppies!"  
  
"Your _face_ is a puppy."  
  
"Very mature."  
  
"See! You always insult me in front of the minions. And I'll have you know that the minions like me. Frank wants you to paddle me with the Tablet of Minonk and then have kinky sex with your buttplug/hot candle wax arts and crafts creation. Don't you Frank? See Sam. Not everyone is as repressed as you are. Frank here understands that I have needs and doesn't judge me for it. You should be more accepting."  
  
"..."  
  
"Accept my love."  
  
"Have you been talking to Dr. Phil again?"  
  
"Whatever. He's down here and he's bored and I'm bored and- don't judge me!"  
  
"Dean I'm gonna go check the antiquities room and make sure you didn't reappropriate any more relics to use for sex toys."  
  
"You're still sleeping on the couch!"  
  
"Dean, I'm not sleeping on the couch. You drop way too much stuff down the back of that sofa; I don't wanna wake up with a mace in my side again."  
  
"Jeez, just because I don't alphabetize my medieval weaponry like _some_ people-"  
  
"It saves time, alright? Remember when I had to fight off a demonic uprising with a battering ram because I couldn't find my broadsword?"  
  
"I-"  
  
"And do not make a joke about wanting me to show you my 'battering ram'. This job is stressful, Dean. _Stressful._ As much as I'd like to stay in bed all day and have hot kinky sex with you, I have duties to perform. These virgins aren't going to slaughter themselves."  
  
"You know what you need?"  
  
"If you say 'my cock up your ass', I will smite you."  
  
"Okay, that was my first answer, but you know what else you need? Middle management."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Middle management. Find some demons you trust, like Bob or Harry-"  
  
"Blabobak and Harrilclit? The Eater of Feet and the Scourge of Arizona?"  
  
"Yeah, like I said, Bob and Harry. Anyway, promote them to your lieutenants or something and delegate some shit. I mean, the Annihilation of the Rebellious Cows? Bob would totally have that covered."  
  
"I guess I could-"  
  
"Exactly! And the construction of the John Winchester Center for Badassery would be right up Harry's alley. His two hellspawn could get that done in a week."  
  
"That does make sense-"  
  
"That's because I'm a fucking genius, bro. Now get out there, do some motherfucking delegating, then come back and fuck me sideways."  
  
"Okay! I'll do it!"  
  
"Awesome. And bring me back some pie."  
  
"It's Hell, Dean. There is no pie."  
  
"No pie?! You can braid the wick of a candle but you can't provide me _pie_? What kind of Demon King are you?"  
  
"I'm not baking you a pie, Dean. You'd complain about it tasting funny and then call me a girl... again."  
  
"Delegate Sammy! Frank would make me pie. Just ask Frank to make me pie."  
  
"I thought you wanted Frank to slaughter virgins."  
  
"No that's Phil, the Destroyer of Earth. By the way, fun fact, did you know that Phil is responsible for all the sink holes in Florida? Phil has skills. Phil would make me pie."  
  
"I'm not making you pie."  
  
"I didn't say you were making me pie. I was saying PHIL would make me pie. Because Phil loves me more then you do."  
  
"How about you cuddle with Phil tonight then? How about we let Phil bang you with ancient holy relics?"  
  
"Don't get pissy Sam. Phil has a penis of unrealistic proportions. That's not going anywhere near my ass. And I'm not sure Phil HAS an ass so we won't be playing 'plunder the booty' with Pirate Dean either. Plus I don't cuddle. Girls cuddle. I make sure you don't fall off the bed in the middle of the night because _someone_ here is clumsy."  
  
"If you're keeping me from falling off the bed, why are you the little spoon?"  
  
"Dammit Sam, stop telling the minions these things! That's private!"  
  
"You stuff the Rylik candle up your ass and try to get me to spank you with the Tablet of Minonk in public, and you're worried about the minions hearing you're the little spoon?!"  
  
"Kinky sex is awesome, cuddling is for girls."  
  
"You're so... weird!"  
  
"Your face is weird."  
  
"Dean!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Can you stop acting like a five year old for three seconds and just focus?"  
  
"I am focusing! I'm focusing on the fact that you are not impressed with my awesome outside-the-box thinking with sex toys and paddles and the fact you won't get me pie and the fact that you're telling the minions I _cuddle._ Any more facts I should be focusing on?"  
  
"You are the crappiest Unholy Consort ever."  
  
"Your FACE is the crappiest Unholy Consort ever."  
  
"Dean!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"... fine. I'll get Phil to bake you pie if you shut up."  
  
"You know what's awesome for getting people to shut up?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The bondage chair."  
  
"The bondage... DEAN! That's my Demonic Throne!"  
  
"I redecorated."  
  
"DEAN!"  
  
"I was bored, okay!"  
  
"This is Hell. Not Extreme Home Makeover."  
  
"Yeah, I got that, demon-boy. Doesn't mean I'm not bored shitless while you're off gallivanting with your big fuck-off sword."  
  
"Gallivanting? _Gallivanting_?! I do not gallivant."  
  
"Sure you do. With your floppy hair and evil horse and pansy-ass flute... That's gallivanting."  
  
"I- That- It's not a flute!"  
  
"It looks like a flute."  
  
"It's not a-"  
  
"Sounds like a flute too."  
  
"It's a battle signal! It's ominous and awe-inspiring and... ominous."  
  
"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Your _ominous_ pansy-ass flute."  
  
"Dean... It is not a flute, Bessie is not a horse- Why are you laughing? Stop laughing! Stop it, Dean! I've told you before about mocking me in front of my minions. Stop it! Bessie is a perfectly acceptable name for an evil Hellspawn who just happens to resemble a horse and I will not tolerate you mocking her. Bessie has feelings too. Dean, stop laughing! I'm not fucking you for a week unless you quit- Thank you. As I was saying, Bessie isn't a horse."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Good. I'm glad that's settled. The signal of Halin is not a flute, Bessie is not a horse, and my hair is befitting of a demonic overlord. I use styling gel. It doesn't flop."  
  
"It flops."  
  
"It does not flop!"  
  
"Frank thinks it flops."  
  
"Frank is mute!"  
  
"I can see it in his eyes. He has the eyes of someone who thinks you have floppy hair."  
  
"Frank, get out."  
  
"Aw, you hurt his feelings, Sammy."  
  
"He's the Terror of the Underworld! He doesn't get hurt feelings!"  
  
"You don't know him like I do."  
  
"He's already off butchering roosters. And smiling. And moonwalking."  
  
"He's crying on the inside."  
  
"You're turning my minions against me, Dean. When we have a demonic uprising we'll all know who to blame."  
  
"Don't be a Negative Nancy, Sammy. You're the one who never talks to them. You just yell at them and send them to their doom in epic battles against the Legion."  
  
"I'm the Demonic _King_. That's what we do! We don't have share and care time with the DEMONIC KING."  
  
"You know if you _did_ have share and care time, you'd know that Bob is lactose intolerant and his lack of ice cream makes him sad. You know would be a good motivator instead of yelling? Telling him that the other guys love eating ice cream. I bet he'd slaughter the Legion for you then. But you didn't think of that, did you Sammy? You didn't think of that because you never _talk_ to the minions."  
  
"They're minions Dean. Their job is to worship me and bring Hell on Earth. Those are pretty simple job requirements. We don't have the funds for therapy sessions, and I cannot believe that YOU'RE the one advocating bonding time with the minions."  
  
"Well if we can't have _bondage_ time with us, I'll advocate _bonding_ time with the minions... did you see how I did that? I made a play on words."  
  
"Yeah Dean, I got that."  
  
"Fine. Don't be impressed."  
  
"Don't pout."  
  
"You know I went to a lot of trouble to make Hell a nice place for us. I found us toys. I made us a bondage chair... do you know how hard it is to make a bondage chair? I had to carve the bones of the innocent into a phallus and then find glue to attach it to the throne. Do you know how hard it is to find glue in Hell? We're in the habit of breaking things in Hell, not fixing them. I had to go to the fifth circle and use plants from the Stygian marsh. It took time and effort Sam and it's like you don't even care."  
  
"You went to the Stygian marsh?"  
  
"Yes. And it's not a very pleasant place I'll have you know. Phlegyas was a little bitch about me using his boat to get sticky vines."  
  
"That actually is kind of sweet Dean."  
  
"Finally! You finally acknowledge my efforts."  
  
"I mean, I didn't know that you were so bored while I was slaughtering the innocents."  
  
"Of course I'm bored! You have all the fun filling whirlpools with the blood of the traitors and I'm just stuck here, waiting for you. I'm a glorified sex toy Sam. Can you blame me for being bored?"  
  
"I guess not. I guess you do deserve pie and sex. I just wish you wouldn't raid Hells treasures for kinky props. Maybe we can find you another job in addition to being my Unholy Consort. How would you like to devise new tortures for the newly dead?"  
  
"Like giving them boxes of chocolate and leaving only the old, crusty, rock hard caramel ones? No marshmallow fluffy ones?"  
  
"Uh, yeah I guess that'd work. I was thinking more along the lines of pulling their teeth out, but I guess you could rot their teeth too."  
  
"I could make them transcribe the lyrics to popular songs and watch their horror as they realize all of their favorite artists are idiots!"  
  
"Sure Dean."  
  
"I could give them a Big Gulp, stuff them in the car, and then never pull over when they have to pee."  
  
"Dean.. this sounds like all the stuff you did to ME when we were little."  
  
"I'm the best big brother ever."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"You love me."  
  
"I guess you're _okay._ "  
  
"I win!"  
  
"Fine Dean. You win. Now tell Frank to stop crying. We have a bondage chair to play with."


End file.
